


snuff

by yanderemonoma



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Sex, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gunplay, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26553112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanderemonoma/pseuds/yanderemonoma
Summary: Nathan doesn’t dare hide from him.
Relationships: Mark Jefferson/Nathan Prescott
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	snuff

Nathan doesn’t dare hide from him.

No, he waits. He stands in their studio, an abused dog waiting for his master, hardly flinching as the door shuts behind him and locks. As Jefferson steps forward, Nathan slowly drifts from his desk where he'd been perched, reaching out behind him to place one final touch against one of the sinful, red binders still spread open on its surface, showing its glossy entrails to the world. He glances up at him, his eyes wide and already hazy, shiny with unshed tears.

He’s high. It’s obvious. A tourniquet still dangles from his arm, a syringe sitting discarded on a nearby table. It isn’t an attempt at suicide, at least, not as far as he could see, though it’s easy to imagine him fumbling alone in the sterile room, trying and failing to give himself the same dose that Rachel had died from. Failing like he always does.

He strips. Jefferson doesn’t even have to ask. Nathan offers himself in silence as his clothes fall limply to the ground around him.

The show lacks sensuality. It’s pathetic and it’s desperate, lacking in dignity and in hope. Jefferson feels himself get hard in seconds, watching him undress so listlessly. He stares, expression impassive, as Nathan kneels to the floor, turns around and bends over, spreads his legs, reaching back and holding himself open to the best of his ability with sluggish, shaking hands.

It’s a disgusting, gorgeous sight. He’s been so thoroughly corrupted, so thoroughly trained. Nothing exists in him outside of Jefferson’s desires, nothing but the pieces and dregs that past traumas had carved into him before he'd managed to do the same, to do so much worse. 

Tragic that it’s all gone to waste now.

Jefferson watches him. He slowly drags the gun out from his side. 

Nathan seems to notice it without looking because he shudders against the floor, still offering, a beauteous sacrifice on a bloody alter, and his lips tremble before forming lethargic words, soft and quiet against the white tiles beneath him. “I loved you.”

Jefferson clicks his tongue. He starts to undo his pants.

“I loved you,” he says it again, panic finally starting to bleed into his voice. “I love you, I loved you so much.”

Jefferson doesn’t answer him. He crouches, and he presses the gun to the back of his head to shut him up.

He goes silent in an instant, and his back arches from a sudden, terrified chill.

Beautiful. He really is.

Nathan gasps as he takes him, gasps like he’s finally coming home again. He’s tight and he’s warm as always, and Jefferson just barely manages to suppress a groan as he squeezes around him, clenching around his cock, all the world’s desperation and despair making him cling as hard as he possibly could.

He only manages a few thrusts before that blessed silence is broken again.

“Please,” Nathan says, as fast as he could manage, rocking back, trying to prove he still has a use. Trying to delay the inevitable.

He grunts. Leaning in, he grabs his hair and shoves the gun right into his mouth. He’s not gentle. It smashes past teeth, and Nathan flinches violently, tensing, a muffled shout leaving him from the pain. Red drips, dots of blood against the floor.

Jefferson fucks him harder, brutally, listening to him whimpering around the barrel as his hips slam and slam into him. There’s an easy catalogue of insults he could leave him, a fine and vicious selection of last words to hear. He knows he’s expecting it, a final barrage of abuse, the final proof that he’d amounted to nothing, that he was a disappointment, that he was good for nothing, his father’s words leaving his teacher’s, his lover’s, his rapist’s mouth, _useless_ or _worthless_ or _whore_.

Crushing him so completely would be such a simple feat.

Instead, he simply, finally says, “I loved you, too.”

Nathan’s breath hitches.

His hips move faster. The gun sinks deeper towards his throat, clicking against teeth with every thrust, a heavy and violent weight. Jefferson can hear Nathan choking around it. He can hear him whimpering, feel him rocking back, clawing at the ground as he drools around the metal.

He forces a sigh for him to hear, twisting it into something as sad as he could possibly manage.

"You were meant for so much more than this.”

Nathan sobs. Around the gun, the sound is warped, pornographic, and Jefferson vaguely wonders if he’s made a mistake in keeping this off camera. Utter and perfect anguish, dribbling weakly from such a subserviant and beautiful body... No. 

No.

This is not something he wants to remember. This would amount to nothing but snuff on film, too pathetic for even the most depraved to jack off to. A gnarled eagerness twists through the boy now, and he tries his best to suckle around the gun, saliva dripping from shining pink lips, tongue working in his mouth, laving as if it were a cock stuffing his mouth rather than the cause of his impending death. He moans as he’s pounded into, his back arching, eyes fluttering like he’s still in love, like Jefferson was still pouring sweet nothings into his ear and along his skin instead of holding him pinned, taking every last piece of him he could give.

Nathan cums on the ground. It's sudden, and the sound he makes as he does is loud, almost violent. A flare of annoyance hits him as he does. More fluid to wash off the floor later, he thinks as he forces a calm, but he’s sure it won’t make all that much of a difference with all the blood.

Yes. When he’s nothing but a smear on the ground, guts splattered around and body twitching and shuddering into something cold, it won’t matter at all what he’s spilled. 

Nathan starts to collapse, as he plans it all. Weak from his orgasm, he only cries, face rubbing into the floor as the gun only jostles against his tongue.

It’s a nice sound. Jefferson eases the gun from his mouth and presses it to his temple instead. He comes close, nestling into his neck with a sigh. He hammers into him, merciless and cold, absent of all passion, chasing after an animalistic ecstasy.

His hips slam home for the last time and he _feels_ him. He feels Nathan whimpering under him as he grinds forward before simply stilling, letting his cock pulse inside him as he deposits his load into his warm, tight body. He feels that fear suddenly overtaking him, stiffening his muscles, making him shiver, his heart racing in his chest like it’s catching up on the lifetime it’ll never live. He can hear it, taste it, sense it _so_ intimately, how much Nathan wants to live. How fucking scared he is of dying.

He stands up, then, slowly tucking himself in after pulling out. That final bit of filth seems to set in so nicely. He watches his cum dripping from Nathan’s hole, left gaping and messy, making a slow trek down his naked and bruised thighs. It’s debauched and it’s disgusting. Corruption in its most complete form, a dying lamb, seconds from its slaughter. It almost holds its own sacredness, bordering on sacreligious, the last few remnants of innocence, drowned away with semen and blood. 

He’s trembling, and sobbing, small, pitiful sounds leaving him like he’s trapped in a nightmare. When he aims the gun, Nathan closes his eyes in that same exact moment, his breath stopping in an instant as the click of the safety echoes through the air.

The next second spends an eternity playing out. One last shudder of a breath, Nathan’s lips parting, his fingers curling into determined little fists. The drops of cum on his leg inch and crawl around his knee, finally forming a small pool against the floor. Jefferson watches every thought as it travels through his skull. He's so scared. He's so scared. He's so scared.

He grovels silently.

Prays.

Hopes.

Decides.

“Mark,” Nathan pleads, “I’m--”

He pulls the trigger and watches the body slump to the floor.


End file.
